And I'll Meet You In the Place Where We Were Young
by amphitriteestelle
Summary: Winona wanted to bask in the warmth of her smile forever, wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman, still does, but love is a funny thing sometimes, and you have to know when to let go. Slash, femslash, unrequited. Kirk/Spock, Amanda/Winona.


When they first meet, it's completely by accident.

Winona is in a hurry; she's supposed to be meeting a friend at that little french cafe two blocks over from the book store and she's already ten minutes behind (a habit she thinks she picked up in the womb; she was three days overdue and she's been fashionably late to everything since). She's carrying a textbook in one arm and a broken comm unit in the other, keeping an eye on it so she doesn't drop any pieces.

All in all, it's no surprise that she turns a corner too quickly and runs head on into someone. She manages not to drop her comm unit, but the book falls out of her grasp and lands harshly, and she flinches when she imagines the bent pages. She bends down to pick it up, mouth already opening in apology, when another hand beats her to it.

"I'm so sorry! Oh, your poor book," The woman smoothes the pages and carefully deposits the book back into Winona's hands, meeting her eyes with an apologetic smile. She is a strikingly pretty person, with a slim face and large eyes, and Winona has a bit of trouble finding her words for a moment.

"Oh, no, it was my fault," She responds, quieter than she meant to be, but the woman simply nods kindly and steps around her, going on her way. Winona glances over her shoulder and sees her go, her stride confident and care free.

Later, Winona cannot remember what the woman wore or what exactly she said. All she can remember is her eyes, warm and bright.

* * *

Winona sees her again the day after next, in another cafe that Winona frequents.

She can't help herself stealing glances over at the woman while she's ordering. Her dark hair is pulled into a sloppy, artful bun on the back of her head, bangs falling delicately around her face. She's wearing a long sleeved white tee shirt with flared jeans and suede black ballet flats, which suites her slim figure nicely. She's sipping a coffee and reading intently out of a children's book. Winona thinks it's quite a charming picture.

She takes her latte and muffin from the counter and hesitates, debating herself for a moment before she approaches the woman's table. She looks up when she notices, recognition flickering over her face that gives Winona butterflies.

"Is this seat taken?" She asks, gesturing to the chair across from the woman, who promptly shakes her head and invites her to sit. "Sorry to bother you. I bumped into you the other day and I just wanted to properly introduce myself. I'm Winona," She says, holding out her hand. The woman grins and takes it, setting her book aside.

"It's no problem. I'm Amanda," She replies, and Winona is warmed to the core by her smile. "So, you're a cadet? What's your focus?" She asks, noticing Winona's uniform.

Winona grins, pushing her hair behind her ear as she starts to answer.

* * *

It takes Winona two weeks to work up the courage to kiss Amanda.

When she does, it's in Amanda's little studio apartment and Amanda's in the middle of making pancakes the old fashioned way and explaining the subtleties of peekaboo. Winona cuts her off mid sentence, taking her chin lightly and pressing a kiss to her lips that speaks of all the pent up desire and want she's felt since they collided on the street.

Amanda is utterly still for a long moment, and Winona pulls back, heart already starting to break, but Amanda only looks at her, searches her eyes for something, an answer Winona knows she can't give with words.

And then Amanda is kissing her, sliding a hand to her neck and tangling her fingers in unruly blond waves. Winona takes her thin waist and tugs her closer, relishing in the soft cushion of Amanda's breasts against hers.

The pancakes are utterly forgotten, until the burning smell permeates the kitchen. They break apart, giggling, and shut off the stove top.

The next kiss is softer and full of promise.

* * *

From there, it doesn't take long for Winona to fall in love with Amanda.

The sound of Amanda's voice will put her at ease after even the most stressful day, no matter what she's talking about. Sometimes Amanda will take one look at her, hum sympathetically, and guide her to bed, where they'll cuddle up and Amanda will stroke her hair and tell her fairytales until she feels better. Winona thanks her with soft kisses pressed to any skin she can reach, especially her wrists.

As cliche as it is, just a trace of Amanda's perfume brings her image to mind, makes her lips tingle like she's just kissed her neck. She imagines burying her nose in Amanda's hair, so long and wavy and beautiful when it's let down, catching the strawberry scent of her shampoo. She recalls the apologetic way Amanda always sprays her perfume, as if someone will yell at her for smelling so good. It's the most peculiar trait, which Winona suspects is rooted in a deeper issue. Their relationship is barely beginning and she doesn't want to push, so she doesn't ask.

Amanda's smile makes her insides feel like warm pudding, which, Winona supposes, ought to be an unpleasant sensation from the way she describes it, but there are no other adequate words. Winona wants to bask in the warmth of that smile forever, and she'll do anything to prolong it. She cracks jokes and strokes her cheek affectionately and surprises her with little gifts, just to see her face light up.

Winona thinks about her constantly, cannot seem to put the woman out of her mind for even the shortest amount of time. She wonders, on occasion, if it's detrimental to her studying, but a quick check of her grades shows that she's doing better than ever. Amanda, even just in her mind, is perfectly encouraging, ensuring in her own, less than intrusive way that Winona studies and earns good grades.

Only six weeks after she ran into her on the street, Winona decides that she is absolutely, irrevocably in love with Amanda.

* * *

Four months into the relationship, Amanda comes to her dorm room and tells her it's over.

At first, Winona doesn't understand. It takes her a long moment to comprehend what Amanda is trying to tell her, and when she does, all she feels is hurt. Her mind goes blank with shock, and Amanda struggles solemnly through her silence.

"I met someone," She says, almost sad. Winona can tell that it isn't easy for her to do this, that she doesn't want to hurt her. "I- he's nothing like anyone I've ever known before. I'm so sorry, Winnie, I'm so sorry, but- I love him," She says, and both of them have tears in their eyes. "I love him and I want a chance to be with him. Please, Winnie, I'm so sorry," She murmurs, trailing to almost a whisper in near sobs.

Winona can't speak, can't breathe, her world completely upside down. She's a whirlwind of pain and she wants to scream and cry and throw things but she loves Amanda, loves her so, so much, and she won't do that to her. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman, still wants to, but love is a funny thing sometimes, and you have to know when to let go. So she takes a deep breath and opens her mouth.

"What's his name?" She asks, calm and quiet. She makes sure there isn't a hint of anything that could be misread as anger or a threat, because that's not what she wants.

"Sarek," Amanda replies, and then gives a watery smile. "He's a Vulcan ambassador," She explains, and Winona bites her tongue to keep herself from yelling the injustice of it all. She swallows a little bit of blood and nods, acknowledging her.

"Does he make you happy?" And that's all she wants to know, really.

"Yes," The soft answer, given without a shred of hesitance or doubt, is the final blow. Winona nods, blinking rapidly and fighting back tears.

"Okay," She murmurs, sees the relief lighting Amanda's face. "Okay. I- I love you," She murmurs, and Amanda frowns a little, stepping forward and hugging her. Winona can't stop herself from squeezing her tightly, afraid of the knowledge that this is the last time she will hold her.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry," Amanda holds her for a minute more, and then withdraws, pressing a last kiss to her cheek. "Thank you," And then she's gone out the door.

Winona doesn't see Amanda much after that.

* * *

A year later, Winona meets George.

They connect immediately, and no, it's not quite like Amanda, but it's the closest she's got, so she makes due with it. George is sweet and kind and he loves her, and she grows to love him, too, in her own way.

It's not a fairytale romance by any means; theirs is a common story with a common path, one that involves a ring and a bended knee. She accepts and she becomes Winona Kirk just before her first real assignment on a ship. She's swept up in the excitement of being newlyweds on a starship and is happy for the first time in a long time.

They're only married a year before Winona has their first baby, a boy named George Samuel Kirk. He brings a light to her life that she hadn't known could exist; she learns a mother's love is one of the strongest forces in the universe and she can barely stand the idea of losing him.

Two years later, she and George decide to have another baby, to keep their first child company. Winona prays and prays for a baby girl, and she knows without a doubt that if she gets one she will name her Amanda.

She wakes up one morning on the ship to the baby kicking and George running the water in the bathroom.

Twelve hours later, she has a new son and her husband is dead.

She's not proud of the years after her husband died and Jim was born.

She's so wrapped up in her own grief and her own life that her boys are put on the back burner, so she can focus on her career. She leaves them for months, sometimes years at a time with a second husband she might as well have picked at random, for all the thought she put into marrying him.

George Jr tries to run away when he's fourteen and her Jimmy nearly kills himself wrecking a car when he's twelve. She realizes that something isn't right, and, once she's removed Frank and his ongoing abuse, all that's left to do is fix it.

She isn't quite ready to give up her career, her life among the stars, so she tries sending the boys to Tarsus IV to live with George's brother and his family. A year later, her boys return to her broken and traumatized and starving.

It's the wake up call she needed, though many times she wished it hadn't come to that. She quits Starfleet and takes a job at a hardware store in Riverside and commits one hundred percent to raising her boys. They don't like it at first, resent her for being there too little, too late, and it hurts and she deserves it, so she works hard to win their trust and love back. She raises them proper, with home cooked meals and chores and hugs and kisses goodnight.

George Jr is a little genius, but as soon as he turns eighteen, he's as far away from Riverside as he can get. Winona cries a little, hopes he's okay, but takes comfort in knowing that he's living a decent, healthy life. Jimmy, on the other hand, doesn't have much in the way of ambition, it seems. He drinks and causes ruckus and drives her wild, but she nurses him back to health every time he's hurt and sings him lullabies when he feels sick.

And then, one morning, he tells her he's leaving for Starfleet without so much as a by your leave. She blinks and watches him go, worrying about his safety more than ever. She knows first hand how dangerous Starfleet can be; she doesn't want that for her baby.

But before she knows it, Jimmy's saving Earth and becoming a bigshot captain and he's all over the news. Suddenly everyone is talking about James T Kirk and his legacy and heroism running in the family and she laughs and smiles and gives him a big hug the next time she sees him.

And then he brings a friend home to visit.

* * *

She's standing at the kitchen sink watching the clouds roll by peacefully out the window when she sees the craft pull up.

Jim had called three days ago and said he'd like to visit and he was bringing a friend, so it isn't a surprise, but she's so excited to see him again that it feels like it's been years. She rushes out of the house and down the steps, clutching her son tightly. She closes her eyes and taken in the sound of his laughter next to her ear and the healthy strength of his arms.

She lets him go and turns to greet the tall figure next to him. He's tall and slender and Vulcan and she looks into his eyes and _knows_.

"You must be Spock," She says, flashing the vulcan salute. Spock nods and returns the salute.

"Mrs Kirk," He greets calmly, and she scoffs.

"Oh, goodness, call me Winona. Mrs Kirk makes me feel old," She says jovially, shooting a glare at Jim just as he opens his mouth. "Don't you start, Jimmy. I know where you sleep," She threatens, leading them into the house.

She doesn't miss the way Jim guides Spock forward with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

* * *

She doesn't claim to be an expect on Vulcans, but she picked up a few things from her time in Starfleet.

Vulcans most certainly do not make jokes. Or at least, all but Spock don't. Winona catches him on several occasions responding to Jim in what, to an outside observer, appears to be cool, clinical intellectualism. It's the subtle light in his eyes and the way his lips quirk as he does so that tips her off.

Vulcans also tend to avoid touching, especially with humans, given the way they bleed emotions. But Spock doesn't seem to mind when Jim claps him on the shoulder or takes his arm to guide him or, on one memorable occasion, when he slings his arm over his shoulders in jest. In fact, if Winona didn't know any better, she'd even say he was leaning into the contact.

Of course, when it comes to her son, she _does_ know better, and she can see clear as day how smitten Jim is. It's written all over his face whenever Spock's in the room, and even when he isn't she can tell his thoughts are with Spock. A small part of her coils up in her stomach anxiously, recognizing the way he looks at Spock as the same way she looked at Amanda. In light of the Vulcan genocide, she thinks Spock will probably be looking for a Vulcan mate, not a risky Starship captain. She hopes her Jimmy won't be too hurt.

On the last morning of their stay, Winona finds herself in the kitchen with Spock, sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of tea steaming before them. She watches him sip through the steam rising from her cup, soulful brown eyes directed at his tea.

"I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds, Spock," She prefaces, drawing his attention. She marvels at his ability to sit up straight at all times; it was like second nature to Amanda. "But... I was always told that Vulcan genetics were completely dominant over human genetics," She begins, waiting for his response.

"That is partially correct. Vulcan genes tend to prevail over other genetic codes, but they are not entirely dominant. Certain physical traits are more resilient in human DNA than they are in Vulcan DNA," Spock explains, sipping his tea again.

"Traits like the eyes?" She guesses, watching as Spock goes completely stiff for a moment. She can see him force himself to let go of some of the tension and knows she has struck a nerve, though she wonders exactly what the cause is.

"Indeed, the eyes of human-Vulcan hybrids would tend to appear more human," He answers, some tension lacing his tone. She almost wants to drop the subject, but something makes her push on.

"I've never met your father, but looking at you right now, I think you have Amanda's eyes," She remarks, watching the surprise and sadness flit through his eyes at the mention of his mother's name. It's a strange feeling, to have outlived Amanda. "Amanda had such beautiful eyes," She adds quietly, almost to herself.

"You knew my mother?" He asks, and she almost knew it was coming, his words tinged with a burning curiosity.

"We met in San Francisco. She was finishing up her degree in education. I was in the engineering track at the Academy. We were very good friends," She summarizes, feeling that it's best not to dump the knowledge of their relationship on him just now.

She can see more questions burning in the back of his eyes, ready to be unleashed, but Jim arrives then, barely out of his pajamas and stretching like a cat in the sun. Spock turns to see him, face open and unveiling more than it has been for the whole visit, and Winona sees it.

There is a spark of love in those eyes, so like his mother's. It gives her a little hope when she sends them off a few hours later, reassured that at least Jimmy has a chance.

She goes up into the attic and digs through old boxes of photographs and journals until she finds the album with Amanda in it, shoved into the bottom of a storage box. She brushes the dust off the pictures, flipping through them slowly. Each one sinks her deeper into long lost memories and she can almost smell the strawberry shampoo again.

She selects her favorite, a small pocket sized photo of the two of them at the beach. Winona's sunburned to a bright red and glistening with the sea water, her standard issue Starfleet suit clinging to her youthful curves.

Amanda stands beside her in a bright blue sundress, the breeze tossing it about her legs. She's perfectly dry and properly sunscreened, and through their legs Winona can see the beach towel with Amanda's novels lying carefully in the corner. It's a sight of bliss and delightful chaos, but Winona can't find it in herself to put it back in the box.

She takes it downstairs to the kitchen, taking a moment to admire the 'fresher in amusement, which is blanketed in photo after photo of her life. She finds a spot in the upper left to squeeze the picture in, sharing a magnet with George's picture.

She steps back and sees she scheme of her life laid out in photographs. It's never felt quite complete before, but the small spot now covered by their day at the beach seems to fill in the missing holes.

Her heart aches a little while she stands there, but for the first time in a long time, it feels good.


End file.
